


In Shadows, Vigilant

by emeraldzephyr



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Fifth Blight, Friends to Lovers, Grey Wardens, M/M, Multiple Wardens (Dragon Age), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 19:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldzephyr/pseuds/emeraldzephyr
Summary: The Blight descended upon Ferelden like a storm, destroying the countryside and sending fear through the populous. Drawn together, different history but united cause, six Grey Warden recruits battle to take back the night from the darkspawn.A retelling of Dragon Age: Origins with Duncan returning to Ostagar with multiple new recruits.





	In Shadows, Vigilant

**Author's Note:**

> Updated perspective, as I felt third-person would be more beneficial in the long run.

The day had finally come.

 

Most women looked forward to marriage, especially those in the Elven alienage of Denerim. Marriage signalled growth, signalled adulthood. It meant you were no longer a child needing care, but ushered in a new period where you began to care for others. 

 

For Elia Tabris, that was utter horse shite. 

 

* * *

 

Elia had hoped to catch a few extra minutes of sleep, of  _ peace _ , before the inevitable. She had spent months telling her father that she wasn’t ready, that she didn’t want a loveless marriage with some nobody. A lot of good that did.

 

There was a shuffle at the door, and Elia cracked an eye open, steel grey eyes squinting in the light, her cousin Shianni beside the bed. 

 

“Wake up, Cousin! Why are you still in bed?”

 

Shianni grabbed her by the shoulders to shake her awake, unaware she already was, and continues excitedly.

 

“It’s your big day! At least, you do remember what day it is, right?”

 

Elia groaned, hoping to not be reminded, and rubbed a hand across her face. As she sat up, she ran a quick hand through dark raven hair.

 

“How could I forget?”

 

Shianni grabbed Elia’s elbow, pulling her from the bed, “Don’t act so excited. Your groom is here early though, and he’s  _ cute _ . You sure lucked out with him.”

 

She throws a wink, obviously excited. Elia just couldn’t reciprocate, letting out a deep sigh, “I hate the idea of an arranged marriage. I don’t need a man to be a respected adult.”

 

Elia crossed over to her dresser, pulling out a cream shift dress embroidered in blue and yellow, “Besides, if I am going to get married, I should be able to do it on my own accord. To someone I love.”

 

She pulled my nightshirt over her head, quickly changing into the damned gown. 

 

“Fine, I’ll stop tormenting you,” Shianni said, “But Soris does want to see you. He’s waiting outside.”

 

Shianni smoothes the fabric across Elia’s shoulders and brushes an unruly lock out of her face before giving a thin-lipped smile. Elia grab a wooden comb from atop the dresser and quickly tamed any unruly tangles and plaited the hair into a braid, tying it neatly at the end.

 

Turning the corner Elia found her father. He looked proud, even after her conversation with Shianni. There was no way he didn’t hear it. He pulled her into a hug, a tear threaten to spill at the corner of his eye.

 

“My little girl, though I guess this is the last day I can call you that.”

 

He smiles, holding Elia at shoulder length so he can view her dress. She was sure many of the girls in the alienage would love it, but it just made Elia feel constrained, feel trapped. The slim skirt made it difficult to take a full step. Her mind filled with grim thoughts about it being harder to run away, or making her easier to catch as she struck the possibility from her mind.

 

“I wish your mother were here to see you.”

 

At her mention, a pang went through Elia’s heart, followed by a brief surge of anger. Her mother, the free spirit, who taught Elia her knife skills. Who was killed by human nobles for not agreeing to lie with them. Elia’s mouth formed a thin smile.

 

“Maybe if mother had been here she would have realized how much I don’t want to go through with this.”

 

Her father sighed, knowing how unhappy she was about her coming nuptials. A brief twitch of a smile flickered at the corner of his mouth, “You are your mother’s daughter. She wasn’t happy about her arranged marriage either, but we both came to care deeply for each other.”

 

He pulls a ring out of his pocket, wooden with ivy carvings around the edge, and places it in Elia’s palm.

 

“This was her ring, and I want you to have it,” He smiles, “Just, maybe hold off on mentioning the training you received from your mother, wouldn’t want to seem like troublemakers.”

 

Elia quickly pocketed the ring and placed a light kiss on her father’s cheek before rushing out the door to find Soris. Knowing him he is just as upset at the prospect of the coming marriage as she was. He isn’t hard to find, leaning against some of the scaffolding that seems to litter the alienage. 

 

“Well if it isn’t my lucky cousin,” He says playfully, “Come on, let’s celebrate the end of our independence together.”

 

He proffs a small wineskin and she take a quick swig. It’s horseshite, but it’s at least something. 

 

“Apparently your groom is a dream come true, if what Shianni says has any merit,” He says flatly, “But my bride...she may as well be a dying mouse.”

 

“Hopefully someone thought to get a cage for a wedding gift then,” Elia say playfully, nudging him with her elbow. It was at least reassuring that she wasn’t the only reluctant one in the Denerim Alienage this morning.

 

She hooked her arm in his and they went off in search of Shianni, passing the wineskin back and forth until they were forced to hide it in the roots of the  _ vhenadal _ before approaching, Soris worrying about scaring off his bride with his wine-breath. Elia hoped maybe that would work for her.

 

They see Shianni, waving to us excitedly, and two other women in the alienage. Unfortunately, they also see three human men approaching from behind. They are obviously nobles, or wealthy, with their heavily embroidered silks and arrogant attitudes. One of them grabs Nola, one of the bridesmaids, by the shoulders and attempts to plant a kiss on her cheek. She gasps and manages to squirm out of his grasp before stumbling behind Soris and Elia. Elia feels Soris move to grasp her hand. To anyone else it looks like a move of comfort, but Elia know it to be anything but; it’s a warning, a way to stop her from doing anything stupid. 

 

“A party! Well I do love parties,” One of the humans drawls, laughing, “Why don’t we show you ladies a good time, eh?”

 

He approaches Shianni, grinning, “You look like you could use a good time, couldn’t you dear?”

 

“Touch me and I’ll gut you, you pig,” She seethes at him, and her father quickly steps forward.

 

“Please sir, we are celebrating weddings here!” He pleads, but is quickly silenced by a hand to the face, reeling back from the blow.

 

“Don’t get involved,” Elia hears from her left as Soris grips her hand tighter.

 

“Your concern is noted. Now let go of me so I can show these  _ shems _ a proper welcome,” She seethes, pulling from her limited understanding of Elvhen she learned from Alarith’s stories.

 

Elia pulled away from Soris, stepping forward, earning the attention of the human.

 

“Ah, another lovely young woman to keep company,” He sneers, eyes flicking over her form.

 

“Invite her over to dinner!” one of his companions yells, the third man chuckling at his outburst.

The first man goes to caress Elia’s arm, but she slaps his hand away before he reaches her. His eyebrows knit in anger.

 

“Do you have any idea who I am, elf?” He sneers, moving closer. He doesn’t see Shianni closing in behind him, and turns just in time to see the bottle she is holding crack against his skull. His eyes roll into the back of his head and he collapses on the ground, many of the women that watched the altercation gasping in shock.

 

“Are you mad?” One of the humans shouts, going to the fallen man, “That’s the arls son, Vaughan Urien!”

 

“Maybe his father should have taught him better manners,” Elia seethes, moving between the men and Shianni.

 

“You have a lot of nerve, knife-ears,” The other man says threateningly as his companion gathers the fallen form of his comrade, “This will go badly for you, I assure you.”

 

They leave quickly, Urien flung over one of the men’s shoulders. Shianni pales, covering her face with both hands.

 

“I really messed up,” She bemoans, tears welling in her eyes.

 

“Well, I can’t imagine they will admit to an elven woman beating him up,” Soris jokes, attempting to lighten the mood.

 

“I sure hope so…” Shianni says, before walking off to clean herself up.

 

It is then that Soris and Elia’s betrothed make their appearance. A mousy woman with golden blonde hair in an elaborate braid and a clean-cut pale blonde man step forward.

 

“Is everyone alright? What happened?” The man asks, looking between Soris and Elia.

 

“That had me shaken, what was that about?” The woman squeaks, fully earning her description as a ‘dying mouse’. 

 

Soris chuckles nervously, making the connection between his descriptions and the woman, realizing he is speaking to his future wife, “I guess the arl’s son started drinking too early. But let’s not let this ruin the day.”

 

He glances to Elia, widening his eyes slightly before continuing, “This is my betrothed Valora, and this…”

 

“I’m Nelaros,” He smiles warmly at Elia, “Soris said much of you, and some of it was even positive!” 

 

Elia attempt a half-hearted smile. At least he was trying to be humorous, but the previous events coupled with her reluctance to be in this situation soured her stomach. 

 

“Well, I guess you probably have a lot to discuss…” Soris says, discomfort evident in his voice, before offering his arm to his betrothed. Venora? She had already forgotten.

 

Elia sees Nelaros smoothing down the front of his tunic nervously, “Well, here we are. Are you nervous? I thought I’d be calm, but now that we’ve met, well let’s just say I’m not calm…”

 

He was rambling, and she didn’t know how to react. Of course she had fought this union, and would continue to do so, until the last moment, but Elia couldn’t take it out on this poor sod. She just smiled until she heard Soris behind her.

 

“Come on cousin, we should probably let them get ready.”

* * *

 

The next hour passes in a haze. Elia wished she had more wine, but as she circled the  _ Vhenadal _ to where Soris had ditched the wineskin they found it has been taken. Elia decided to take a walk through the alienage, receiving congratulations from many of the elves there, and managed to talk her way into a wedding present of forty silvers from a trio of men too drunk to even stand properly. Finally, the time had come for the ceremony, and Elia approach the small platform and see Soris’s betrothed and Nelaros already standing upon it. They moved to stand by them, her father smiling on. 

 

“Well, I guess we are ready,” Soris says, looking to Elia.

 

“Let’s get this over with,” I sigh, unable to contain my disdain for the event any longer. She sees Nelaros stiffen out of the corner of her eye. Clearly he heard the statement. Already off to a great start.

 

Elia zoned out as the Elder begins speaking. She barely noticed when the Mother began speaking, knowing most of the vows already from weddings attended previously. It was an excuse for celebration, so naturally the entire Alienage would be there. It is when she stops talking that her ears perk up, noticing the clanging of armor. 

 

The man from before, the arl’s son, and his two friends approach, a retinue of guards in tow. 

 

“Sorry for the interruption, Mother,” He says as he ascends the stairs, “But you see, I’m having a party and I’m  _ dreadfully _ short of female guests!”

 

“Mi’lord this is a  _ wedding _ ,” The Mother chastises, causing the man to shove through Nelaros and Soris.

 

“If you want to dress your pets up and have tea parties that’s your own business, but don’t pretend this is a proper wedding.” He seethes. 

 

He approaches Elia as she sees his men grab Shianni and the two other bridesmaids. She attempts to shove past him. He grabs her wrists, smiling down at me.

 

“Oh, this will be fun,” He purrs as Elia struggles to break free. One of his men approached from the side as she pulls at the hands gripping her wrists. She stomped on his toes, not noticing the fist swinging at the side of her face, her last conscious memory of the faded colors of the rug that decorated the stage for the wedding.

 

* * *

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
